PROLOGUE - THE INTRODUCTION…
Owt odd is there about towns?
Owt odd can there be?
Naught about towns that overflow
Out of mediocre sea…
But the force’s occupancies do exist,
Those crafted and not evolved;
Not insane it is to forebode then,
That the fraternity could very well be odd…
One of that kind we investigate now,
Not because choose we want to;
For the town chose us and not we it,
So comply we do, without thought two.
No inkling of ill will, for honoured we are,
To know of that forlorn town;
One that brims with out-of-the-way tales,
To rejoice our devout drown.
Arise do arteries out of its ripe heart,
Ordained to reach beyond yonder;
Serenades of blood and worldly memoirs,
On cruise to make minds all wander.
Browsing from chasms to the endless void,
Every little grain of life’s expanse;
Not to mention the never-ending nap,
Leaving the multitude in total trance.
But corporeal are chronicles, they do age,
Stale and out-dated they become;
For today’s decree is history tomorrow,
Fleeting is the fizz of French Rum.
But flourish or fail, the machinery might,
Endure will one sole tale do;
Not because it’s special (All tales are!)
But because this one’s too good to be true!!!